Blackmail
by Gimme-Chan
Summary: Crack!P/J fic. Rewar. Prowls an enforcer, Jazz the right hand mech of a crime lord. Prowl catches Jazzs eye and Jazz blackmails Prowl into becoming his lover. Lots of crack, non-con, dub-con, slash rating may change
1. Chapter 1

Crack...crack,crack,crack! Thats all this story will be crack...and smut...XD

This is going to be the "cleaner" version. I'll post the much dirtier version (aka sticky version) somewhere...more appropriate (I'm sure some of you can guess where...if you can't guess and really want to know send me a note and I'll tell ya)

This story contain all kinds of crack, AU, slash, non-con, dub-con...I think thats it for now.

Edited by **Peacewish**

Chapter 1

* * *

Prowl didn't want this transfer to Iacon. He understood the reasons, but understanding didn't do much to alleviate his anger. Anger that flared up yet again as he watched trepidation settle on his younger brother's little face. Bluestreak stared out the window of their new quarters, eyeing the city while chewing on his lower lip, a sure sign of his distress.

"It's… it's so much bigger than Praxus. And darker." Bluestreak seemed to huddle into himself. "Shouldn't there be more streetlights on at this time of night?"

Prowl reached over and shut the blinds, effectively blocking the sight that had upset his brother.

"Doesn't matter, you won't be going out after dark anyway." Prowl motioned towards Bluestreak's new room. "You have boxes to unpack. Streetlights should be the last thing on your mind, go." He gave Bluestreak a gentle push away from the window. Bluestreak looked up at Prowl, his expression worried.

"But you go out after dark… what if something hap-"

"I'll be fine, Bluestreak. You've no need to worry about me. Okay? Now, go, finish unpacking what you can tonight."

Bluestreak gave Prowl a grin before nodding and trotting off to his room. Prowl waited until he was gone before returning his attention to the window, parting a few of the slats to look at Iacon's too-dim street another look.

In truth, Bluestreak had every right to be worried. Enforcers died on these streets. Prowl had been forced to contact their older brother and tell him about transferring to this pit, and in the process they'd had to discuss what would happen to Bluestreak if Prowl became one of those aforementioned enforcers. No, Prowl had not been happy to have that conversation, and he was not happy to be standing here now.

The organized crime in Iacon had taken such a nasty turn in recent vorns, Enforcer stations within the city were forced to send out requests for reinforcements from all over Cybertron. Prowl and a few others had been selected from Station 456 in Praxus. Normally Prowl followed orders without complaint, and if this transfer had only involved him then he wouldn't have protested. But he had Bluestreak to think of.

Their creators had passed on almost six vorns ago, in a freak transportation accident. Bluestreak had been aboard as well, and was one of the few survivors. His brother had been little more than a sparkling at the time. A happy sparkling… not that Bluestreak wasn't or couldn't be happy now, but he'd watched his creators die violently with his own optics and at a very young age. Physically he'd survived; emotionally he'd been left ravaged and scarred.

Prowl had been there to pick up the pieces. He'd taken in, stood by, and cared for Bluestreak as the youngling struggled to heal and to cope. He'd been getting better over the last couple of vorns. Even though there were still times late at night he would hear Bluestreak's stuttering hitched intakes, and soft keening as he cried in his berth.

And when it became too much, the oppressive silence of the night, coupled with nightmarish images, would drive Bluestreak to seek out Prowl in his own berth. Prowl would wake suddenly to the feeling of two small arms hugging him tight as his brother's smaller frame curled into his, shaking. And Bluestreak would cry as Prowl stroked his helm and whispered soothing words of comfort.

And now, thanks to the transfer, Prowl had been forced to uproot Bluestreak from a neighborhood he knew and felt safe in, take him away from the academy he loved, away from all the friends he had made, and place Bluestreak in completely unfamiliar territory. Make him attend a strange academy with no friends. Prowl had spoken with his supervisor about the situation, asking if it were possible for another to take his place. But his supervisor stood firm with the transfer, even if he did sympathize with Prowl and his situation, explaining that Iacon needed his skills.

So tomorrow he would report for duty and Bluestreak would attend the new academy. No, he wasn't happy about any of this at all.

He walked with Bluestreak to his new academy, and took the chance to do a visual sweep of all the other young mechs flocking toward the entrance. So many of them walked in groups. Prowl hoped Bluestreak would fit in well enough to be accepted into at least one of them, that Bluestreak would not have to be alone. As they approached the gate, Prowl stopped.

"Be good, Bluestreak." Prowl handed his little brother the all-important communicator. "If anything happens or you need me, call right away."

Bluestreak subspaced the device, and smiled bravely.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine!" Bluestreak reached up and hugged Prowl, whispering to him, "Come home safe."

That made Prowl smile. "Of course."

Bluestreak released him and with a wave trotted off through the gates, up the steps, and into the academy. Assured Bluestreak was safe inside, Prowl turned and made his way to the Enforcer Center. The drive took longer than he'd expected, but he still managed to arrive ahead of time.

His new supervisor, Dodger, greeted him warmly.

"It's a pleasure having you on our team, Prowl. Your file practically sings of your skills."

"Thank you, sir."

Dodger waved Prowl through a door.

"Come, I'll show you your desk and then I'll introduce you to the team. Get you working on some of the open cases we've got."

Prowl nodded in agreement. The desk, to his pleasant surprise, was large and suitably designed for organizing files. The team, on the other hand, was surprisingly small. Dodger assured him there was a good reason, while Prowl found an unoccupied chair.

"Prowl, this is Rundown, Range, Beta, Spikestrip, and Torque." Each mech gave Prowl a nod of acknowledgment. "It's a small team, I know, but that's because we're tracking _him_."

Dodger hit a button on the screen at the front of the room and an image of a visored mech smiling boldly into the camera came up.

"This is Jazz. We know a lot about Jazz and what he does, but it's all circumstantial and little would hold up in a trial. On top of that, he's one slick mech and can avoid arrest like no other. He's the mouthpiece and right hand of a crime lord we have yet to identify."

Prowl watched the screen as image after image showed Jazz not even bothering to hide himself from the camera. In some images it even looked like he was posing for the picture. Prowl frowned.

"He doesn't care if his imaged is captured?"

Range snorted. "He prefers it."

"Is the mech unstable?"

Dodger shook his head. "If he were, Prowl, it would make our jobs easier. Unstable mechs can be lured out and caught. Don't let anything about Jazz fool or mislead you, he's extremely intelligent and very dangerous. He -"

Another enforcer dashed into the office without warning.

"Sir!"

Dodger and everyone else looked up, the urgency in both face and tone demanding instant attention.

"We just had a hit go down in a business over by the trade market - looks like some of Jazz's mechs might have been involved."

Dodger nodded. "Right. Everyone, go. Range, I want you with Prowl. Get him a weapon and meet us down there."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Jazz lounged in a comfy chair, feet propped up on the computer console as he casually sipped some of his finest high grade. Idly he watched the monitors as enforcer after enforcer entered the business and began searching for evidence. He always got a good chuckle out of watching them run around, desperately trying to find something, anything, to pin on him. It was, of course, futile. They never had and never would find anything.

Jazz sank into his chair, air cycling from his vents in a casual sigh, dangerously close to slipping into recharge. The monitor was abuzz with activity, though, and he grinned when he saw "his" team start filing in through the door. They did try so hard... sometimes he almost felt sorry for them. He chuckled and tossed back the last of the high grade, then poured another. It was time for the show.

Dodger was first. The frustration all over his face had Jazz grinning. A_ww, poor mech. _And then there was Rundown, Beta at his side of course, and - wait, someone was missing. He'd just done a headcount when Range walked in, and Jazz quirked a brow ridge beneath the visor. _Late? Not like Range to be late_.

Then an enforcer Jazz had never seen before slipped in behind Range. Jazz stared for a moment, sat up, and set the high grade aside. He tapped on the screen to bring up a magnified image of the mech, pausing it when he got a good shot. Jazz leaned forward over the console, resting his chin in one hand as he drank in the image of this new enforcer.

He reached out a finger and caressed one side of the image's red chevron, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully.

"And who might you be?"

_Author's notes_

Quick, short intro chapter. This piece of crack plot has been sitting in my notebook for ages! Don't take a word of it seriously. It's crack from word one! XD

Of course reading and reviewing is always loved! Keeps me going! XD

**Blackmail Story Teaser!**

Prowl stared, transfixed and horrified, as the vid played. Helpless, he watched the night before play out... but with some serious differences. In the vid as Jazz kissed Prowl, Prowl was no longer bound with his hands behind his back. It now showed Prowl running his hands over Jazz as they kissed.

Prowl shook his head as he watched Jazz in the vid slide down his body, watched as one of HIS hands cupped the back of Jazz's black helm while the other stroked his arm. Prowl shook his head again.

"That is not what happened."

Jazz simply grinned at him. "But that's what they'll see. And that's what they'll believe."

Prowl shook his head. "No. No, they won't. The vid would be examined by our top specialist. He'd be able to pinpoint where and how it's been altered and tampered with."

Jazz leaned his head back against the chair and chuckled, before releasing his vents in a good-natured sigh. His grin was frightening untroubled.

"Prowl, who do ya think I got ta alter the vid for meh? Come on now, don' be naive. An' in case ya wonderin', that top specialist o' yours _will _declare the vid valid an' untouched, in front of your squad an' in front of the senate."

Although Jazz could see Prowl's jaw clench, he remained otherwise silent and expressionless. Jazz pushed for more.

"Ya know what that means, right? Ya gonna go ta jail, Prowl. Ya rank an' title stripped from ya. Ya'd no longer be the shinin' example of what an Enforcer should be. Ya'd just be another shameful reminder of what's wrong with Iacon."

Behind the visor, optics narrowed as Prowl's face remained expressionless.

"Means every case ya worked on will be reopened. All those nasty criminals ya put away will have the option of retrial. An' with ya character an' motivations now bein' called in ta question along with how ya obtained ya evidence, how many of 'em do ya think will remain in jail? How many of 'em do ya think will claim ya worked for meh the whole time an' they simply got put away cause they knew too much?"

Prowl remained silent, stony gaze fixed on Jazz. Jazz wanted Prowl to react, wanted to know he had Prowl backed into a corner, and to do that he needed to find a weakness. Clearly Prowl's Enforcer rank and title were not it. Time to sink to a different level and strike some low blows.

"An' how would that little brother o' yours take it?"

Prowl's face darkened, optics blazing a little more brightly. Jazz almost grinned in triumph. _There we go_.

"What would little Bluestreak think of his big brother, the hero, after watching him enjoy interfacing with a criminal? And he will watch the vid, Prowl. I'll see ta that personally. It'd be easy, after all, ya can' be with him all the time."

Jazz watched as white hands clenched into fists, and doorwings tremble with barely contained anger.

"Ta be honest I don' think it'd go over very well, Prowl. Bluestreak seems to be a little… fragile."

It was low, underhanded, and mean but if it got Jazz what he wanted then he didn't care. Prowl glared at him.

"What do you want?"

Jazz grinned. Those were the words he wanted to hear.

"I want you, Prowl. I want you to do what I ask, when I ask it, without question or protest. Your two new favorite words will be 'Yes, Jazz'. The consequences of refusal will be harsh. Do you understand, Prowl?"

"Yes."

Jazz leaned forward toward the monitor, head cocked to the side some.

"Yes..?"

Prowl looked away in disgust. "Yes, Jazz".

Jazz grinned and sat back as Prowl turned to glare at him again.

"Good." Jazz reached over, his finger resting on a button. "I'll be in touch, Prowl."

And the screen went blank.


	2. Chapter 2

Yay! More getting posted!

I'm not a fan of super long chapters and as this one kept getting longer and longer I broke it off and will be posting chapter 3 soon (soon meaning a week or more).

**Warning!: **mechxmech, noncon, dub con

* * *

**BlackMail**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

An unease began to settle over Prowl, putting him on edge, making him wary. He felt like he was being watched, tracked. He had no doubt his recent addition to the group had been noticed by Jazz's lookouts. And that they had to be investigating him, sizing him up, seeing what threat he might pose to their boss, their organization. Gathering as much information about him as they could.

It wasn't as if these tactics hadn't been used on Prowl before, therefore, he remained vigilant ever watchful of his surroundings. It was only a few decacycles later things turned a touch strange.

He had just picked up Bluestreak from the Academy. They walked back to their quarters, Bluestreak chatting away to him about the events of his day, Prowl would smile and nod to show that, yes, he was listening.

They took the elevator to their floor and were walking down the hall toward their quarters when Prowl came to a dead stop. He saw light streaming into the hall. A thin bright line from a door left slightly ajar.

Their door.

Prowl grabbed Bluestreak, pressing him firmly back against the wall before drawing his weapon from subspace, "Stay here. Don't move, don't say a word. Understood?"

Bluestreak gave him a quick nod, fear etched on his face. Turning, Prowl's optics locked on the door. He moved until he was at the edge of the door frame, carefully peering in, his gaze roaming over every inch of the living room.

Seeing no movement and nothing out of place, he stepped in, shutting and locking the door behind him. Coding it, so if there was anyone in their quarters they wouldn't be able to leave through the door, eliminating the chance of them running into the hall, into Bluestreak.

He opened the new comm line he'd had installed only a few cycles before. Range answered and Prowl quickly relayed the situation. Range informed him they would be at Prowl's quarters as soon as possible and would be bringing a team with them. Cutting the comm line off once he was assured back up was on the way, Prowl began to slowly search each room.

Nothing.

No one was there.

And he couldn't find a single thing missing.

Only in his room did he find things to be….off. Various items had been moved, just slightly. As though picked up and handled, looked over before getting set down again. He didn't have anything of great value. Only personal items, images, and mementos.

What could they have possibly been looking for? It didn't make any sense.

Walking back to the living room he unlocked and opened the door calling Bluestreak inside. At Bluestreak's slight trembling, Prowl pulled him close and stroked his helm, softly assuring him everything was fine.

As the team of Enforcers began to arrive, Bluestreak latched onto Prowl's hand and arm, pressing close, following Prowl at his side wherever he went. Never once did Prowl tell him to stop or try to free himself from Bluestreak's tight grip but every now and then would give Bluestreak's hand a gentle reassuring squeeze.

It took several orns for the Enforcer team to sweep every inch of Prowl's quarters looking for any kind of video or audio recording device.

None were found.

Prowl thanked the team as they filed out. He stopped his supervisor before he left, requesting the next cycle off to install better security. Dodger swiftly granted the request as he pulled from subspace a data chip to a reputable security agency, handing it over to Prowl before bidding them good night.

Once more Prowl closed and locked the door, venting a weary sigh as he stared at the data chip in his hand. The feeling of Bluestreak leaning his helm against his arm pulled his gaze downward as Bluestreak looked up at him with dim optics, "I'm tired."

Prowl gave him a soft smile, "Me too. Lets get some recharge."

Bluestreak pressed his chevroned forehead against Prowl's side and asked in a small voice, "Can I recharge with you?"

Prowl reached out with his other hand and cupped Bluestreak's helm, hugging him close to his frame, "Of course."

Prowl turned, shutting off lights as he walked to his room, Bluestreak followed still clinging to his arm. He settled them in his berth, Bluestreak curled against him, before turning off the light. Bluestreak fell into recharge almost immediately. Prowl was not so lucky. His mind wondered, curious to know why someone would break in, steal nothing, leave no trace, no taps, nothing. It seemed pointless, senseless. Eventually, Prowl labeled it as an intimidation tactic and drifted off to recharge.

After walking Bluestreak to the Academy the next morning, Prowl bought all he would need to set up his own security system and reinforcements. He really didn't trust anyone else to do it and after the system was installed there were no further incidences.

For more than four decacycles, there was peace. The criminal ring he researched and monitored seemed to slow to a crawl. Jazz allowed himself to be seen less and less in public. This was good and bad.

Good that that crime had almost stopped, bad because that meant they might be planning something big or relocating. Either way Jazz was still out there and if he disappeared off the radar completely they'd have no leads and no idea where the crime rings were moving.

Work still unfinished, Prowl met and walked Bluestreak back to their quarters before turning around and returning to the Enforcer Station. He didn't have to worry about Bluestreak, they've gone through this routine before and he was safe in their quarters with a communication device at the ready should he need anything.

Prowl worked late into the night. Looking through files and stacks of information concerning robberies, murders, kidnappings, anything trying to find something that might indicate why Jazz and his group were dropping off the map.

Nothing. After finding nothing after orns of looking, Prowl called it a night. He walked slowly down the street. He didn't really feel like heading back to his quarters just yet. Looking around he spotted a bar he and Range had gone to on a few occasions to unwind. He felt like he needed to unwind right now. And while he rarely drank high grade (after all he had Bluestreak to look after and he needed to always conduct him as a proper role model), tonight felt like a night he could indulge and have a cube.

He walked to the bar, walking into thumping loud music, smoke, and noise. Surprisingly, all a welcomed distraction to his one track mind. Seating himself at the far end of the bar, he quietly ordered a standard cube of high grade. Sipping at it, slowly enjoying it. So good. Prowl sighed and felt himself relax a touch as a pleasant wave of warmth washed over him.

Loud yells and catcalls from the dance floor had Prowl turning around. The mechs out on the dance floor had formed a circle and were cheering on a single dancer in the center. The mech had his back to Prowl but Prowl watched anyway as the mech moved and danced with a fluid sensuality Prowl knew he could never match. He had never been a graceful dancer. He couldn't help but smile a touch as the crowd cheered the mech on, his movements alluring, smooth, flowing like liquid. He was actually very pleasant to watch.

Until he turned around.

Prowl suddenly found himself looking straight at one very familiar visored mech. Jazz. And at that moment, Jazz looked right at him, gazes locked. Prowl quickly turned away, hunching over his drink.

He was torn.

Leave or stay.

On one hand, he bore nothing on him that indicated his Enforcer status and he doubted Jazz was briefed on every new Enforcer in Iacon which could afford him an opportunity to watch Jazz, maybe even follow him, gain information on the situation with the crime ring. On the other, where Jazz went so did his bodyguards as well as other lackeys and they probably knew what Prowl was.

He didn't get time to make a decision as he risked a quick glance over his shoulder to see Jazz swaggering toward him, one very over energized smile on his face. Prowl looked down at his drink and silently cursed.

He froze, tensing, when he felt the mech come right up behind him, right in between his doorwings, almost pressing against his back. Two arms caged him in on either side, black hands resting against the bar as Jazz leaned in close, breath caressing his audio. Prowl could smell the high grade on him. The mech had to of had a large amount.

"I couldn' help but notice ya from th' dance floor. Handsome mech like you shouldn' be sittin' all by himself."

Jazz leaned in closer, tilting his head to see more of Prowl's face. Prowl didn't respond, he continued to look down at his drink. Jazz leaned in more, lips brushing briefly, intimately against his audio, "Would ya like some company? Hmmm?"

Jazz raised a hand to stroke the top of a doorwing but Prowl flinched away. The black hand hesitated then dropped, "M'ma comin' on too strong?"

Prowl glanced quickly at Jazz's face. There was no recognition there, Jazz didn't know who he was. He decided to play along. See where this leads. Prowl gave Jazz a small smile, "A little."

Jazz pulled away, stepping from behind Prowl to lean his back against the bar next to him, gracing him with one very big flirtatious and charming smile, "My apologies. Not my intention ta run ya off."

Small smile carefully in place, Prowl looked at Jazz, "I'm still here."

Jazz's grin grew, "Don' recall seein' ya 'round here before, gotta a name?"

"Prowl."

"Prowl…I'm Jazz. Ya passin' through here, Prowl?"

"Yes. Only here for another cycle."

"I see. And what brings ya ta the great city a' Iacon?"

"Business."

"Ah, yes, business. An' what business might that be?"

"Trade. It's for a small company, I doubt you've heard of it."

Jazz nodded and leaned closer, "Gotta a place ta stay fer the night?"

"Yes."

"Wanna better place ta stay? I can offer ya one."

At Prowl's shocked silence Jazz leaned in close, visor leveling with blue optics, "Come home with me. I promise ta show ya a good time."

Jazz reached out and gently removed the cube of high grade from Prowl's hand, setting it aside, "An' I got some of th' sweetest high grade that'll ever pass through yer lips. Much better than this stuff. You can have as much as ya like."

Prowl quickly analyzed the situation. This could be a trap. But what would be the point of Jazz attacking him? He was simply an Enforcer on a team that shadowed him. As far as Jazz knew they didn't even have enough to arrest him on. As far as Jazz was concerned, Prowl basically posed no threat and he had never heard of Jazz or his crew so much as raising a weapon in the teams direction.

But was it a good idea?

This whole situation was a blessing. Here was Jazz offering to take him to his home, no Enforcer knew where that was. And if they knew where Jazz's home was they could better monitor the crime ring, see where they were going and what they were up to and Prowl doubted another opportunity like this would present itself again anytime soon.

He needed to get a hold of the team, let them know what was happening. But he couldn't with Jazz so close, he might hear.

Jazz must have taken his silence as hesitation as he shifted closer, "No attachments, no commitments, just fun. What ya say?"

Having read so much on Jazz, Prowl was aware it wasn't uncommon for the mech to take lovers away with him from various bars. None had ever reported being harmed. That wasn't exactly any kind of guarantee but it was something to go on.

Prowl decided to take the plunge. Given the circumstances, it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. He made sure his reply sounded hesitant and slightly unsure, "Alright."

Jazz grinned and surprised Prowl by leaning in and giving him a quick gentle kiss.

"Ya won' regret it, I promise."

*****Authors Notes*****  
Oh, Prowl...you know better...Jazz always gets what he wants!  
Warning for some, chapters will start to get hot and heavy! Uber JxP!  
Reading and reviewing is always loved! :) Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

I know its been awhile since this one has been updated but I try! Enjoy! :)

**Warnings!: **mechxmech, noncon, dub con

* * *

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Jazz pushed away from the bar, grabbing Prowls hand as he did. He turned toward the exit, walking backwards, body moving to the beat of the music. He gently but insistently tugged Prowl from his perch on the bar stool.

Prowl followed, feigning a touch of hesitation.

Jazz grinned as the Praxian followed him through the bar, toward the exit. Keen optics, shielded safely behind his visor, never left Prowls face. Black fingers laced through white ones as Jazz lifted their joined hands to his lips, placing a tender, lingering kiss on the back of Prowls smooth white one.

They slipped out of the exit. Once outside, Jazz called over to one of his waiting bodyguards and Prowl had to force himself to not noticeably tense.

"Get mah transport."

The mech gave a nod, murmuring a soft,

"Yes, sir."

The bodyguard turned around, not even glancing in Prowls direction, and walked around the corner of the bar.

After a few moments when it became obvious there wasn't a horde of bodyguards ready to spring from the side of the building, guns drawn, did Prowl feel a touch more reassured, however he remained highly aware of his surroundings. It was to his advantage he spent most his time in an office doing research, not making many appearances in public, and was hardly considered a concern to a crime ring as large as Jazzs. Thankfully, he'd been nothing to bring to Jazzs attention or the attention of anyone who surround him.

Jazz turned back to Prowl, sliding up next to him, hands caressing over Prowls waist, pulling him almost flush against his black and white frame. The visored mech smiled alluringly, leaning in close,

"Now, don' be jealous. That was jist one a' mah bodyguards. Trust meh, I got no interest in 'em."

Prowl gave a frown,

"And why would you need bodyguards?"

Jazz tilted his head playfully,

"Well, Prowl, when a mechs got th' credits n' stuff I got, ya find ya self needin' a lil' extra protection. Especially if ya a regular round here. Now, a passin' through mech like yourself don' have ta worry 'bout stuff like that."

"Why not contact the Enforcers for aid?"

Jazz gave a snort and started laughing, bringing his arms up to loop them around Prowls neck as he leaned into him, resting his head on Prowls shoulder, continuing to giggle,

"Oh, Prowl…..ya…ya really are something. The Enforcers…. Oh, ya jist makin' mah night."

Prowl just gave a small, good humored smile in response…..which immediately vanished when a thought hit him.

Bluestreak.

He was late getting back to their quarters, Bluestreak would no doubt be wearing a path in the floor pacing about their quarters worrying over his absence.

Frag.

Prowl began disentangling himself from Jazzs arms, earning him a frown even as Jazz continued to cling to him,

"What's wrong?"

"I…I almost forgot. I need to make a quick call. Excuse me, please, I'll be just a moment."

Prowl quickly slipped from Jazzs grip, pacing a few steps away as he pulled his communicator out of subspace. Jazz could wait a moment, easing a worried or upset Bluestreak was more important. And just as he thought, when Bluestreak picked up he could hear the anxiety in his little brothers voice,

"Prowl? Prowl! Is that you? Where are you? What's going on? Why are you late?"

"Its me. Just wanted to let you know I…" Prowl glanced over his shoulder at Jazz, who was watching him with interest,

"I'll not be back till morning."

Prowl had worked undercover before, so the language he was using would make Bluestreak aware of the situation at hand, let him know he was in a surrounding where he couldn't speak freely.

"…..your…your doing undercover again? Why didn't you say anything earlier? Is everything alright? Are you ok?"

"Yes. Don't worry, I'll call before I head back."

"Prowl…..Prowl, please, please be careful! Promise me you'll be careful."

"I will."

After this he'd have to place a quick call to his team while he had distance from Jazz. From the look of the audio horns Jazz sported, which were more than just fashion accessories, his hearing had to be extraordinary. A well chosen feature for the right hand of a crime lord. And even in his intoxicated state, Jazz would undoubtedly be able to pick up if he was sending a signal or message should he be standing too close.

Prowl gave a startled jerk when two arms sudden wrapped around his waist from behind and felt Jazz press close, nuzzling the back of his neck. Primus, the mech could move quickly….and without a sound. Prowl cursed silently, what timing, it was like the mech could read minds.

"I, uh, I have to go now. Make sure the door is locked, alright?"

"I will…..Prowl, be careful."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

Prowl clicked the communicator off and quickly subspaced it,

"Sorry about that."

Jazz nuzzled Prowls audio, lips caressing,

"An' who was that? Do ya have a' mate, Prowl?"

Prowl felt those lips pull into a grin,

"Are ya bein' a naughty mech? Am I some sordid fling, a bit of fun off to the side, fer ya?"

If the idea bothered Jazz, he sure didn't show it. He pressed close, lips traveling down to place a kiss on Prowls neck.

"No, no, that was my roommate."

Those lips traveled back up to his audio,

"Ya have ta tell ya roommate ta lock th' door?"

Prowl paused a moment then forced a soft laugh, shocked he couldn't even remember saying that to Bluestreak, it was habit, automatic,

"He's forgetful…."

Jazzs syrupy voice dropped an octave as he purred into the audio he nuzzled, making Prowl work to contain a shiver,

"Is he now?"

The sound of a transport pulling up had Jazz giving a disappointed hum as they turned their attention to the street. At the sight of the vehicle Prowl felt a twinge of unease pass through him. It was one thing to be in a bar or out on an open street with the enemy, another entirely to be confined in a small space with one. A small space that could hinder any chance of defending himself or escape should he need it.

"What's wrong? "

Black hands slid up his arms to stroke over tense shoulders as Jazz leaned in, whispering softly, soothingly in his audio,

"Relax."

Prowl frowned, he hadn't even realized he'd tensed up.

"If goin' ta mah place makes ya uncomfortable, we kin go somewhere else. Plenty a' nice places we kin room in fer th' night. We kin pick up whatever kind a' high grade ya like on th' way. All mah treat."

Prowl continued to look at the transport. If only he could get a hold of the team then he'd feel a lot better about going through with this. But he couldn't, not just yet, Jazz was too close.

He didn't want to mess this up, it was too important, with Jazz showing up less and less in public they needed to know where he was but he didn't want to stupidly place himself in danger in the process.

Prowl shook his head and took a deep breath, he was going to stick to it. If things looked dicey, for even a moment, he's exit the situation as quickly as possible. But for now he'd press on.

"No, no, your place sounds just fine."

He gave Jazz a friendly smile which Jazz returned before slipping from behind him, once more grabbing his hand and leading him to the transport.

The transport door opened and Jazz slid in, keeping hold of Prowls hand. Prowl carefully slid in after him and sat down cautiously. The door shut with a click and the transport took off.

For a few moments Prowl looked out the window, intending to memorize where they went, what turns they took, what roads they passed.

But a hand caressing up his chest plate had him turning his head back to Jazz and before he knew what was happening Jazz was pressed against him, lips locked on his, arms around his neck holding him tight.

Shocked, but forcing himself to remember the part he was playing, Prowl lifted a hand to Jazzs shoulder and caressed down the mechs back, earning him a deep moan as Jazz arched into his touch.

Jazzs glossa caressed over his lips, questing, eager to taste. Prowl hesitated for a moment then let his lips part. Warmth and the sweet taste of high grade flooded his senses as the kiss was deepened. Jazz pressed closer to him, one hand shifting to caress down his face, black fingers trailing along his jaw then feather light down his neck.

Jazz pressed into him more, pushing Prowl back against the door of transport, shifting himself so he was almost between Prowls legs. He broke from the kiss to gaze at Prowl, at their current position.

A devious smile stretched across Jazz's face and before Prowl could process the meaning behind it, Jazz slipped a hand behind Prowls knee and pulled, shifting back as he did, causing Prowl to slide down so he was laying lengthwise along the seat, one doorwing pinned between the back of the seat and his shoulder.

Jazz loomed over him and a twinge of panic shoot through him, his body tensed, readying to defend himself at any moment. But then he got a good look at Jazz and realized his expression was sensual, his actions lovers play, nothing malicious.

Jazz leaned down, pressing their bodies together as he situated himself between Prowls legs, his arms coming up to loop around Prowls neck once more as he leaned in and captured Prowls lips.

Jazz moaned into his mouth, bringing him out of his daze and prompting him to play his role. Prowl raised his hands and slid them along Jazzs waist, fingers teasing along seams. Jazzs intakes hitched sharply, with a deep moan he ravished Prowls mouth, body moving, pressing firmly against Prowl.

Prowl smoothed his hands around Jazzs waist to his lower back, both hands caressing up over his back to his shoulders then down again. He wrapped one arm around Jazzes waist and let his other hand wander down to his hip joint, fingers dipping in to touch and tease wires.

Jazz twitched, body grinding into Prowls as he broke the kiss, panting,

"Primus!"

Prowl eased up on his touch as Jazz looked him in the optics, his lips pulling into a lopsided grin,

"Gotta be mah lucky night. Ah' wasn't sure ya'd be so willin' ta play. But frag yer good."

Prowl smiled up at him.

_I think its going to be a lucky night for both of us._

Then the transport came to a stop.

* * *

*****Authors Notes*****

Jazz is playing Prowl like a drum!

I know, I know, I wanted this chapter to have all kinds of smexin' but it keeps getting longer and longer and this was a good cut off point. So, hopefully more on this story soon!

Reading and reviewing is always loved! Thanks!


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